


The Velvet Room

by SugarsweetRomantic



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Mental Health Month 2019, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rittenhouse (Timeless), Wordcount: 100
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-02-16 05:06:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18684733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarsweetRomantic/pseuds/SugarsweetRomantic
Summary: 31 100-word drabbles for newisalwaysbetter's May Mental Health Month Whump challenge, all on the evil organisation we love to hate. Some platonic, some not.





	1. Alone (Emma)

Humming softly, Emma Whitmore walks down silent hallways. Carol is dead. Nicholas is dead. Jessica defected.

It's just her now.

Just her, and a desire to make the world a better place, one jump at a time.

Emma hums. 

She's grabbed all of Carol's research and Nicholas’ plans from their respective offices. Most of them are nonsensical, but she'll go over them in the following days to figure out what she wants to keep. It's a lot of responsibility for one woman and a bunch of rent-a-thugs, but she can take it.

Emma hums.

So the silence doesn't consume her. 


	2. Puzzles (Nicholas/Emma)

“I don't understand why you play those ridiculous quiz apps,” Emma comments, staring at the screen of Nicholas’ iPad. “They're so repetitive. My five-year-old nephew could answer those prompts correctly without even trying.” She closes her book, switches on her alarm and turns onto her side.

Nicholas continues playing  _ Four Pictures One Word _ .

He will learn the vocabulary of this new age; he will stop feeling incompetent and out of place; he will get better at this. He just needs to practice more. 

Maybe then he won't feel as anxious near her. 

Maybe then he will be a worthy partner. 


	3. Guilt (Carol)

The hallways of Rittenhouse’s current hideout are empty, save for the occasional guard. So are most of the offices. 

There's a light on in one of them, though, where a woman is bent over files. She goes over every single employee, examining their data and performance reviews, and sorts them into stacks. _You stay. You go. You stay_. She works quickly, jotting down comments in bright red ink. 

The work may be repetitive, but it keeps Carol's thoughts from drifting to her daughter in a cell two floors down.

Lest she do something irresponsible. 

_You stay. Stop crying. You go_.


	4. Sleep (Jessica)

_ 'Tired' _ doesn't begin to describe how she's feeling, Jessica muses as she exits the  _ Mothership. 'Exhausted'  _ comes closer, but it's not bad enough. Her limbs feel ready to fall off at the slightest gust of wind, but they don't ache as much as her heart.

_ Is it mine? _

There's so much she wants to tell him. And not just him, all of them. They don't deserve this, but she made a deal with the Devil: her brother's life, in exchange for hers.

She lets herself collapse onto the nearest sofa while Nicholas mutters in the background.

For now, she sleeps.


	5. Touch (Emma & Jessica)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: implied dubcon/noncon referenced.

His hands are all over her body, staining her skin, even after he's gone. Hot water only takes the sharpest edge away. Her arms and her chest are raw with the immense effort it took to remove his smell from her being.

“Whoah,” Jessica calls out as she enters the shared bathroom. “Hey, hey; it's okay.” She strips and joins Emma under the shower, carefully washing welted skin. “You're alright.”

As the blonde’s hands cover her with gentle strokes, Emma's breathing finally stabilises. Closing her eyes, she attempts to thank her saviour for her assistance, but Jessica repeats: “It's okay.”


	6. Liquid (Emma)

Near-frozen hands wrap around a steaming mug, and a woman sighs as the hot air warms her face. Everything hurts. Her skin hurts, her eyes hurt, her joints hurt, her soul hurts.

Ever since spending ten years in Missouri, the cold is her worst enemy. Even a PhD in engineering and a healthy load of common sense couldn't help her fight the biting ice that seeped into her very being every time the winter came around in that damn cabin. 

“You're not really drinking that awful excuse for coffee, are you?” Carol comments. “We have bottled water now.”

“I know.”


	7. Warmth (Ethan & Lucy)

The fire crackles quietly in the background as a nurse approaches.

“You have visitors, sir,” she tells him. “They say they made an appointment with you many years ago?”

“Let them in please, Alice,” he replies, taking a deep breath. It can't be them. It can't have been real. Every day that goes by convinces him more and more that it was all just a dream, a hallucination, a psychosis.

But they walk in, and Lucy looks exactly like she did before, and she's beautiful and smart and the fire fades in comparison to the pride that swells in him. 


	8. Learning (Carol & Emma)

“Hey,” Emma comments quietly, “here's your books.” She's carrying a stack of history books, and drops them onto Carol's desk. The blonde sits up a little straighter, taking off her glasses and pinching the bridge of her nose. “How's it going?” Emma asks, taking a seat on the edge of the surface. 

“Honest answer?” Carol replies, opening one of the books at a chapter on the Salem Revolts. “Nothing is as I recall it.”

“That says enough. Can I help?” 

“How's your historical knowledge?” 

Emma sighs.

“How about I get you something to eat instead?”

“I'd appreciate that. Thank you.”


	9. Colour (Emma/Nicholas)

_ Black is comfortable. Black is classy. Black is safe. Black impresses people. Black won't get you laughed at. _

Emma Whitmore repeats the words in her head as she stands in front of her wardrobe in her pyjamas.  

_ Black is safe. _

But black is so, so  _ boring _ . It's so incredibly depressing. It's so...black.

Taking a deep breath, she grabs a blouse and a skirt from their hangers. To her, they look like they go well together, but…she can never be sure.

“Here.” Nicholas’ voice is gentle behind her. “That's yellow. Try this one.” He hands her a different top.


	10. Change (Emma)

“Are you sure?” Carol presses her lips together as she watches Jessica mix the contents of the package together. “It's permanent, you know.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Emma replies. “That's the whole point.” When Carol begins to object again, Emma huffs and turns to face her.

“Look, redheads don't exactly have it easy in history, okay? And I'm done with it. I'm screwed because I'm a woman; I’m screwed because I'm not straight; this is the one thing I can actually control, so I'm doing it.” 

Carol nods, sitting down.

After Emma hums in affirmation, Jessica begins applying the hair dye.


	11. Work (Jessica)

As long as she keeps running, she doesn't have to think of everything else. She doesn't have to think of the look on Wyatt's face. She doesn't have to think of Jiya's panic. She doesn't have to think of Lucy, and what she may have destroyed. She doesn't have to think of the movie nights. She doesn't have to think of his embrace. She doesn't have to think of Flynn and Michelle's cooking. She doesn't have to think of the laughter. 

It's all for Rittenhouse. She owes them.

Jessica turns up the speed of the treadmill. 

Stop thinking. Keep running.


	12. Date (Nicholas & Carol)

“Hey.” 

No response. 

“Hey!” he tries again, a bit louder this time. Cloudy eyes look up from the screen, where the news is playing on repeat. 

“Jessica made breakfast,” Nicholas comments as he walks towards the bed. “I thought you might want to join us.”

“I'm not hungry,” the woman hiding beneath the sheets replies.

“I know that it's a special date today,” he responds. “And I…”

“Don't. Don't say it. I don't even feel remotely like a mother today.” 

Nicholas nods.

“Shall I get someone to bring you some tea instead?”

“Please.”

“Alright.”

“Nicholas?” Carol sighs. “I… Thank you.”


	13. Soft (Emma)

It’s ridiculous. She knows this. 

_ Emma Elizabeth Whitmore, you’re much too old for that ragged old thing. Either you throw it out yourself, or I’ll do it for you. _

She’d climbed into the garbage chute that night. Her nine-year-old body had been lithe enough to allow her access. She’d fallen two storeys down, but she had retrieved her Ollie.

When her teacher inquired, she had told him she broke her arm when she fell off of her bike.

She didn’t own a bike.

_ Get that disgusting thing out of my sight! _

Emma pulls her arms tighter around the stuffed elephant.


End file.
